Red Road The Pathway to Hell
by Ri1
Summary: A female FBI Agent is where she wants to be, in a top-notch investigative department. She has a psychopathic killer, a ditzy witness, and a man trying to seduce her. Can she ignore her past before any more teenagers die?


Chapter 1  
  
February 27, 2002, Wednesday  
  
Melanie Black had long ago discovered that men were pigs and were always trying to stunt the growth of her power and position in the Federal Criminal Justice system and in life in general. There had been no reason for her not to require of herself only the highest goals and achieve them. Becoming a FBI Agent had only been one of them, solving more cases in the short four-year span she had been working than most middle-ranked agents had.  
  
However, she wasn't hell-bent and determined to solve the cases she was assigned because she wanted to prove herself to the public, or traipse around with an inflated ego, or even because she strongly believe in the justice of the American government. It was simply because she couldn't and wouldn't allow herself to fail. If Melanie failed, that would mean that everything her father had accused her of would be true. Growing up with him in a rural Texas town, he had been a habitual drunken womanizer who used every woman drunk, high, or just plain stupid enough to let him look up her skirts. There would be no worse punishment than letting her father's biased opinion describe even a small portion of who she was. She pushed herself to the breaking point daily to show herself, but even more so with spite to show her dead and rotting father he had been, and always would be wrong.  
  
Sitting in the rather hard chair of the round office that belonged to her superior, she stood and paced slowly getting to the heart of her argument. "To be brutally honest, sir, I would rather choke on a fork than do what Mr. Issac is proposing I do, as it would only give me more unwanted public intimacy. The press are a bunch of vultures searching out dead and rotting animals to consume with the table manners of a hog." Melanie stopped pacing and met his face. Ethan Issac was a fat, rat-faced man with small beady eyes outlined in thick black plastic rimmed glasses and had at least half his head covered in small tufts of mousy brown hair. "If I did this I would be made into the public puppet, again. Put up and set out on display as the public's temporary hero." Her facial features were calm and sturdy, but her voice was intense with meaning and a lilting accent. Her true intentions were covered in a façade of lace.  
  
With the completion of her most recent and profound crime (10-year-old Micheal Silverby's abduction and safe return), Melanie had received public thanks, recognition, and had been faithfully stalked by newspapers and news reporters for interviews so that, " The world could get into the head and heart," of the FBI's very own Melanie Black, do-gooder of the month. As well as reporters, she had been contacted by elite members of Women's Rights activist groups begging she do more television interviews so America could see women were just as capable and powerful as men. She had also been invited, more times than she could decline nicely, to come to one of their annual get-togethers to make encouraging speeches. Frankly, she was up to her ying-yang in media attention and didn't need anymore for anything.  
  
Ethan Issac was the head of the Board of Education for the southern California public school system. He made a small protest as he shifted in his chair uncomfortably. "Agent Black, please consider the possibility of getting the younger generations interested in police work of this magnitude. It could even give them a sense of camaraderie with federal agents everywhere. And., no offense meant, but I believe you are exaggerating your issues with the media. I am merely requesting that you make a short spiel about what you do here to a class of senior English students. The publicity you imagine you will get isn't considered because it has nothing to do with this project."  
  
Gilbert Bryce watched quietly, as the exchange grew more intense, more visibly on Issac's end. He interjected softly. "Mr. Issac, you don't need to try to convince Agent Black. I am the one that needs convincing. She does bring up a very good point."  
  
Before Issac could say anything, Melanie pounced to nail the rat to the wall with one well-placed claw. Her voice and expression were neutral, showing only a small amount of calculated calm and prowess. "I understand what you are asking, and I am telling you that I am uninterested in this. If I took the time to talk with these students, some people of America would start wondering if the FBI had nothing better to do then send their Agents to talk with teenagers, who most likely couldn't give a shit about how little we get paid. The Bureau, and especially me, do not need the attention the media would give us. The press and news stations over the whole of LA will get wind of this and sink their fangs into it."  
  
She made sure to give him a look of intimidation, and smiled to herself at his reaction, then continued with a slightly raised tone. "I appreciate and respect the reasons you are conducting this on-going project, Mr. Issac. But I will tell you now, that I resent and will not tolerate you forcing me blindly into a position that would curtail practically any time I could use to gain leeway in any of my current cases that hold more importance than that of a speech." She made no attempt to sit, but met his face with the militaristic precision of an Admiral. Her demeanor was that of water, cool and undisturbed. "I did not become an agent, Mr. Issac, to inflate my ego or spend my valuable time flaunting myself in front of a camera. The media will get information on this, then show up at the school's doorstep with film and a whole hell-of-a lot of time to salivate over such a juicy story." She turned to Bryce, sincere respect tainting her throaty and accented voice. "Sir, if you assigned this to someone else, like Agent Peters, or Whitney, I'm sure they would be more than happy to do it with a smile for Mr. Issac."  
  
Bryce listened carefully, taking in more than the verbal exchange. He had already made up his mind, and more than likely, Melanie already knew what his decision would be. Like often before, he wondered who Melanie Black really was. He couldn't see through her, in fact, her eyes were constantly guarded and in conflict with the tones of her voice and the expressions she wore. He wondered what had inspired her to become an agent, and essentially part of his surrogate, though dysfunctional, family at the Bureau. Se didn't take credit where credit was due, ignored the fame that came from her successes with top-notch cases, and didn't acknowledge her intelligence or the lack of infallibility. She worked harder than some of the other veteran agents, but still earnestly denied the extraordinary efforts she made and contributed. He expected there was more to Melanie Black than he had first thought.  
  
He stood and went to the window behind his desk, his hands clasped behind his back, deep in his own thoughts. "Mr. Issac, I cannot force any of my agents to want to do this for you and the Board. I'm sure you understand." Bryce lifted his hand to fend off any arguments. "However, if I find this should be an agent's priority, I will assign it to whomever I see fit." He turned and glanced only quickly at Melanie's icy eyes. Her innermost thoughts were concealed by walls of concrete and steel, the color of clouds thick with rain.  
  
Issac nodded and met his watch, seemingly nervous. "I understand, Agent Bryce. I thank you both for your time and consideration, but I really must be going." He turned to Melanie and smiled, offering his hand to her. "When you two come to a decision, please call me."  
  
She took it and smiled charmingly. "You will be hearing from me very soon. You can be sure of it, Mr. Issac." She released his hand and waited patiently for the two men to pleasantly end the meeting.  
  
There was a moment of silence after Issac had shut the door, where Bryce gathered his thoughts. Melanie stood tall and straight behind the chair she had occupied, watching her commanding Agent's back. He was fifty-five with milk-chocolate skin, closely cropped gray hair, and bright green eyes that could pierce all the way down to the grittiest level of criminals, on anyone for that matter. He turned and met her ready gaze.  
  
"Black, I know you don't want to do this. By doing this you might expand the curiosity of teenagers in this department. These days we have enough trouble with teens and their dislike of any authority." He sighed and realized his mistake.  
  
"With all due respect, I refuse to believe that this should have precedence over cases that."  
  
"Agent Black," his stern exhalation cut her off sharply. "I have decided that you are going to do this whether or not you want to. And as well, you are not allowed to come into this office until you have given that damn speech." Bryce met her gray eyes and went to sit down. "You are dismissed."  
  
She nodded once in acknowledgment. "Understood." Melanie left quietly and shut the door behind her. Without any words or expression really, she went to the stairs and passed her office just a floor below. The FBI's gym was like any other gym with exercise machines and mats for hand-to-hand practice. She changed into her bleak and simple training uniform. Melanie popped her knuckles and neck, then started beating the man-sized dummy with the catcalls and whistles of her colleagues in the background.  
  
-__*^^*-__- 


End file.
